From Petals to Praxis
Moving Beyond Performative Equity
In the quiet of a garden, where each flower blooms in its own time, we are reminded that true growth takes patience, care, and intention. A garden is not made overnight — it requires tending, nurturing, and a deep commitment to the soil beneath the surface.
Similarly, the work of equity is not a quick fix or a fleeting gesture. It’s an ongoing process, one that asks us to dig beneath the surface, to examine the structures we take for granted, and to cultivate spaces where real transformation can take root.
A single flower in the window may look beautiful but it doesn’t compare to the fullness of a thriving garden.
A diversity statement is not the same as dismantling oppressive systems.
And yet, too often, equity work is reduced to aesthetics — a classroom poster, a land acknowledgement read without reflection, a book added to the syllabus but never discussed. Symbols that suggest change but do not require it. Gestures that bloom briefly, then wither, leaving the roots of injustice untouched.
But real transformation cannot be planted in shallow soil.
It demands more. It always has.
The Problem With Performative Equity
Performative equity, like a well-manicured garden in full bloom, can appear beautiful from a distance, offering a fleeting sense of progress. But when we move closer, we see that the soil beneath it is barren, lacking the nutrients that would sustain real, lasting change. Too often, we mistake the outward appearance of diversity, inclusion, and equity for the deep, systemic work that needs to be done. Performative equity allows us to feel good for a moment, without confronting the harder truths about power, privilege, and the systems that perpetuate inequity. This superficial approach may offer a temporary sense of satisfaction, but without addressing the root causes, it ultimately leaves the foundational work untouched, unable to withstand the storms of history or the test of time.
Performative equity can look appealing from a distance, but when we get closer, it often feels empty, lacking the substance needed for true change. It can show up as: representation without redistribution (welcoming diversity but keeping power structures the same), symbolic gestures without systemic change (statements of support that never lead to policy shifts), and checking the box instead of challenging the system (one-time workshops that never lead to sustained learning and action).
It is comfortable, it is convenient, and that is why it is dangerous.
When equity is performative, it allows people to believe they have done enough when, in reality, nothing has changed at all.
Beyond the Bloom: How We Move Toward Real Change
Beyond the bloom lies the quiet, persistent work of nurturing what truly matters. Flowers, in their brilliant colours, may captivate our attention but their beauty is fleeting. The real power is found in the roots that anchor them, hidden beneath the surface, gathering the strength and nourishment that allow them to rise year after year. The bloom is a moment — fleeting and fragile — but the roots are enduring, growing deeper with every season. Moving beyond the bloom in equity work means understanding that true change cannot be rushed or reduced to a snapshot. It’s about committing to the unseen work, the deep, ongoing process of rethinking systems, shifting power, and nurturing true belonging. Transformation takes time, requires vulnerability, and calls for actions that extend far beyond the momentary applause of performance. It is in the quiet, often invisible efforts that real growth begins.
If we want to move beyond surface-level equity, we have to uproot the very systems that make it possible to fake progress. We need to stop confusing decoration with disruption. A bouquet of good intentions alone cannot uproot the systems of injustice.
The real work takes time and commitment. It’s complex, often uncomfortable, and it demands a willingness to dig deep.
It requires us to shift from performance to praxis.
And that starts with asking the questions that make us uncomfortable.
Not “What makes me look like an ally?”
But “What am I willing to give?”
Not “How do we show our commitment to equity?”
But “What are we prepared to do when the road gets tough, when it challenges our comfort, when it asks more of us?”
My parents always told me that it is okay to get fired for the right reasons. It was a good lesson to have in a world that wants you to break your integrity at every turn.
Performative equity is easy, but real equity work will test everything.
Deepening the Roots: What Praxis Looks Like in Action
Deepening our roots requires us to be steadfast, to dig into the soil of our beliefs and practices, and to nourish them with the wisdom of our lived experiences. It is not a process of quick fixes, but of steady growth — one that often happens out of sight, beneath the surface, where the real work of change takes place. Just as a tree’s roots intertwine and grow stronger over time, so too must our commitment to equity grow deeper, beyond the surface gestures of inclusivity. To deepen our roots is to commit ourselves to a long-term vision of justice, where every decision, every action, and every word we speak is rooted in the soil of integrity.
In order to deepen our roots and truly action the work as we need to live, breathe, and exist, we have to make it real. Below, you will find some ideas that I hope can help you action equity in your lives, classrooms, communities, and world:
Redefine the Metrics of Success
If equity is only measured by how much diversity we can see, we are asking the wrong question. The real measure is:
Who has the decision-making power?
Who feels safe in this space?
Who does not?
Who thrives here?
Who is merely surviving?
Success is not representation alone, it is transformation.
Shift Power, Not Just Perception
Symbolism does not dismantle inequity, but power shifts do. This means hiring and promoting educators from historically excluded communities, not only inviting them to panels or the occasional meeting. It means rewriting policies that create barriers, not just translating them into multiple languages. It means funding justice work like it matters because, if there’s no budget, there’s no real commitment.
Make Justice a Practice, Not a Performance
The most important work happens when there is no applause. It happens in the decisions about whose voices shape the curriculum, the policies that determine who gets punished and who gets a second chance, the hiring, the mentorship, the reallocation of resources, and the willingness to be held accountable.
Real justice work is not a photoshoot, it is a practice. It is a lifelong commitment. It is showing up again and again — long after the moment has passed, knowing there are so many more moments in the movement if we can sustain ourselves to get there together.
Petals Fall - Praxis Grows
Flowers are fragile. They bloom for a season, then fade.
But roots?
Roots stretch deep beneath the surface.
Roots sustain.
Roots outlive the moment.
If our work is only about aesthetics, it will die with the trend. If it’s about visibility, it will vanish when the next cause arises. When our actions are rooted in justice, when we invest in the hard, unseen work, they are not swayed by seasons or cycles. If our work is real, it will live in what we build, in what we refuse to accept, in the systems we are willing to tear apart and replant.
A flower can be picked but roots, when they are deep enough, cannot be uprooted without tearing apart everything around them.
Performative equity is easy: it is easy to add a few flowers, take a picture, and move on. It is easy to put up a banner, say the right words, and wait for the applause. But what happens when the wind blows? When the cameras leave? When the crowd disperses? What happens when the storms of history come crashing down, as they inevitably will? Will our work withstand the storm or will it blow away like petals in the wind?
If we only plant for show, when the storm hits the roots will be too shallow. Our systems will crack, our students will suffer, and what we call “equity” will wither and leave a cold hard reality that we have left the deeper work undone. Either we root into justice now or we watch injustice thrive in our silence. We can no longer afford to admire the garden while ignoring the soil.
Equity is not a performance. It is a promise.
A promise that calls us to act with intention and integrity.
The only question that matters is:
Will we keep it?
With deep roots and unwavering resolve,
Ms. K
